Nirvana
by Spylace
Summary: Short fics revolving around Vongola's 10th generation rain guardian Yamamoto Takeshi. Latest: Despite common belief, the rain guardian was neither deaf, stupid nor dumb.  1880
1. In Memoriam

**Title:** In Memoriam**  
>Summary:<strong> Hibari remembers.**  
>Pairing:<strong> 1880**  
>Rating:<strong> PG13**  
>Notes:<strong> Something that came to me in the middle of the night.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> "_Belongs to Amano Akira, return to creator if found_" TTwTT**  
>Warning: <strong>Character death**  
>Word count: <strong>200+

.

You remember.

You remember when his strength first failed him or maybe it was that his knees refused to bend. You remember that he stopped smiling and maybe that was when you accepted that he was going to die.

It wasn't a common enemy you could have protected him from, someone he could have cut, something you could have bitten to death. The real problem was his body and how stupidly—_selfishly_—he continued to fight beside you for many years, even as he realized he was slowing down, his fingers gone numb. In the end, bedridden, there was little more he could do than to imagine sleep. There were times when you feared that he would stop breathing altogether.

Feeding Hibird brings back memories of another predator, Varia's Xanxus, throwing objects at a loudmouth swordsman, keeping him alert, awake, angry and alive. You think that he must have known what the cold flames would do to his own and fought to keep him the way Sawada didn't—the way you couldn't.

It's getting to be close. The doctors don't understand what could cause a healthy man to wither before their eyes but you know because you remember. You will always remember that his smile went away first.

.

**A.N.:** This fic was written under the assumption that sooner or later, using these flames is going to come and bite everyone in the ass. Although logic has no place in KHR, there are bound to be consequences when you are constantly wreathed in storm flames, rain flames or even sun flames whether or not it was produced by you. Eventually, Gokudera is going to suffer skin problems (unless being close to Tsuna all the time neutralizes all the damage), Yamamoto will end up feeling really old and Ryohei will _be_ old. Or that's how my mind runs anyway, always looking for a new way to inflict emotional trauma. Happy year of the dragon everyone~!


	2. The Medows of Atë

**Title: **The Medows of Atë  
><strong>Summary: <strong>So what happened to the worlds Byakuran visited? Yamamoto drifts through each one and finds out.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG13  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>None  
><strong>Notes: <strong>Kind of self-explanatory this one. Or it's that Yamamoto has gone batshit insane.  
><strong>Characters: <strong>Yamamoto, Hibari  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Yes I own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. It's why I still attend school and have a decade old Gameboy color as my newest game console. Because you know, I have lots of money.  
><strong>Word count: <strong>900+

.

Down one block and a left, the world is pristine and untouched like fresh snowdrift on the rooftops; rainbows and sunshine abound like the time he tripped out on opiates and wandered off lost for four days before Hibari found him and thrashed him soundly for his stupidity. But it had been worth it, the clear skies and the grind of chalk lines beneath his heel. His father had been there cheering in the crowd beside his mother as he struck a home run and lazily slid home. Then he stumbled over a pothole and ended up taking the wrong door where everyone was there, trying to find a way to defeat Byakuran.

He didn't like that world. At least the first he knows to be a distinct impossibility; his mother's face always changes like the ads on a billboard. He never knew her. Sometimes he talks to Mukuro on his wild travels for the odd-eyed man is always there, tied to him by a thread thinner than spider's silk. He wonders which world the mist guardian came from how Chrome died there but doesn't ask—he leaves her flowers anyway in front of the shrine he now calls home, bright yellow daisies peppered with pink and red carnations. Hibari's stopped trying to beat the habit out of him a long time ago. He was considerate like that, this world's Hibari.

Yamamoto stood before a fork in the road, the worlds colliding with each other as they blinked out one by one like pixilated space ships on the computer screen, disintegrating as a square block rippled through them one by one. There is a world Tsuna lived and another he died, where he was never born or grew up or was even killed at the Ninth's callous orders. He doesn't like it very much, this newfound sight of his though it helped save them many times, he and Hibari, a few times Gokudera, never Chrome, the too many passengers inside his head, Kusakabe though he was too late for this world's counterpart, I-Pin and Shamal. It's too much like how Byakuran crushed the worlds one by one like flicking cat's eye marble into another.

They're cut off from the rest of the world, stuck on an island slowly falling to sea. The sky is messed up and the North Star appears everywhere, beside Sirius, beneath the Cancer's claw, sometimes inside Seiryu's mouth like the pearl of the undersea king. Shamal remarks dryly that they're bound to hit _something _once they start walking and Yamamoto laughs at the memory, thinking about the world which has cracked open like an egg to be cooked over a frying pan. He likes his over easy though his dependence on drugs dull his appetite.

Pain flickers across his forehead like a low-lit flame. Disembodied voices stir like a nest of hornets, intent on driving him towards a certain direction. There is nothing he can do to save anyone here and they kiss his cheeks in thanks for thinking of them, for keeping them alive. Yamamoto doesn't know how many flowers he leaves at the shrine but thinks that he should get more. Flower shops have been closed for a while now but the ones in the park are free. The white daffodils near the zoo entrance are particularly welcoming.

He knows that this world's Byakuran fought before being taken away. This world's Byakuran had truly been an innocent, a college student studying environmental science while printing romance novels in his free time. But the other Byakuran, the destroyer of worlds, had been too strong. Yamamoto hadn't been there, he isn't even from here but the ghosts tell him, they tell him everything.

"You're late."

Yamamoto looks up, the plastic bag in his hands warped around his fists and its contents pureed. He was supposed to get milk and tomatoes, perishables not easily kept in their hideout. Laughing, he turns on his heels like he hadn't been lost just moments ago, chasing the there-and-gone images out of sight and out of mind.

"Eh, Hibari-san?"

Yamamoto Takeshi of this world died before he came; fell in, not three minutes in his grave when the world broke, the living withering and the dead returned to life. They say you die when you see your doppelganger and he knows it to be true. Something in him died when they touched, younger to older, the dead to the living, when he saw what would happen to him and the rest of the world.

"Thanks." He says earnestly, grabbing Hibari's sleeve and allowing himself to be led back to their hideout. Yamamoto is always getting lost, his body or maybe just his mind snapping back and forth, trying to find the right place in time. But there is no right place for him, no longer, he thinks that it was one of the universes Byakuran destroyed in a quest to see if it allowed two of him to exist. "Thank you for coming out to get me. Hey, I saw a boat by the docks today, think we can use it?"

Hibari considers him quietly, tugging his sleeve out from his grip. The end of the world hasn't done much to improve his humor. "Perhaps," he turns away, "next year."

There won't be a next year. The world can collapse tomorrow and if Yamamoto is lucky, him with it. But for now, he smiles bright and nods. He is happy.


	3. Creatures with Teeth

**Title:** Creatures with Teeth**  
>Summary:<strong> Despite common belief, the rain guardian was neither deaf, stupid nor dumb. Nor did he appreciate being deceived by his own family.**  
>Rating:<strong> T**  
>Pairing:<strong> 188018**  
>Notes:<strong> Maybe there is a romantic bone in my body. Happy Belated Valentine's Day!**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> See previous chapters**  
>Warning:<strong> none**  
>Word count: <strong>1100

.

A dragonfly lit his finger, shaking its delicate wings. It swiveled its head, eyes like multifaceted gems pressed together in the faded sunlight. Hibari did not notice. He saw its every movement and the spindly limbs. But like a predator colorblind and uncaring whether the sky was blue or yellow, only that it not cloud his vision, he could not see the splash of color imbedded in every cell of is body. He could not appreciate it the way Yamamoto did, childlike in his intensity and just as entertained. Hibari knew companionship and that is enough to hold the tentative peace and silence between them, the unwritten demands for the younger to leave and return to the hole the Tenth Vongola had provided for his men.

The dragonfly flew off, Yamamoto staring wistfully in its wake.

"The Sakura are beautiful this year." He commented, eliciting a grunt from Hibari whose calves still stung from where Yamamoto had smacked them with the flat of his blade. Bluffing was a useless, herbivore thing to do but surprising enough, though he loathed to admit, for the younger man to take advantage of an opening and block the tonfa aimed at his idiotic face. His eyebrows knotted irritably when he continued, "Think we'll see them again?"

"Why are you asking me?" He growled irritably, watching Yamamoto lip the rim of his cup and rub his scraped knees.

"Oh I don't know." The younger man said blandly in reply. "You tell me."

"You assume far too much." Hibari did not bother denying what they both knew. There was no need and Hibari was never the one for deception. That was all Sawada Tsunayoshi grown too big for his herbivore skin. Yamamoto would not be the first dissenter in his new regime. It was merely startling that he was the first.

"Of course." The younger agreed unflatteringly. "That's the game isn't it?" Then laughing, Yamamoto waved him off. "Aha, I'm sorry but I am really angry." He turned around, suddenly serious. Setting his cup down beside them, as though drawing a line that neither may cross, he leaned forward encroaching on his space. Hibari eyed him warily, his good mood from the earlier spar dissipating just as quick when Yamamoto grabbed hold of his hand, shifting the loose joints when he gave a quick squeeze. "What you're planning, it changes nothing. You know that right?"

Losing interest Hibari shifted his focus, staring instead the ripple of sakura when all other trees had stopped flowering months ago. He breathed into the air, feeling a small headache form behind his eyes. "Let's make a bet." Yamamoto edged close, testing boundaries as he draped himself across the older man's shoulders, eyes no longer mirthful, teeth felt through the cotton fabric. "If I'm right, I'll ask Tsuna to let me stay in Japan. Maybe I'll open up dad's sushi shop again."

"And if you're not?" Hibari asked sharply, his diamond eyes cutting.

Yamamoto smiled playfully, brushing his knuckles down the front of his shirt as though presenting a prize. "I will forever be your..."

"No."

Startled, Yamamoto stopped. "Hm?"

The older man set his cup down, his back straight like the tiny stone Buddha sitting alone in the garden. "If you are wrong, I want you to leave the family."

"Ha..." Yamamoto inhaled, eyes wide. "I never expected you to be so forward."

Hibari graced him with a dry look. "Subterfuge is for the weak."

"Why, is this your way of saying you're interested?" Yamamoto asked, voice saccharine sweet. He dropped his head against Hibari's neck, sucking on the first knob of the spine. His fingers spread beneath the older man's collar, skirting around the hollow between his ribs and down to play with the pale obi.

Hibari reflected—"at least one of us is honest."

He bit his way into Yamamoto's mouth, more brutal than usual, determined to leave his mark on the younger man's skin. Yamamoto stifled a moan, a growl, a slight hitch in breath when his knuckles brushed over a scar tissue in his right side. He pressed down through the cloth, his teeth latching onto tongue and parts of his lips when he tried to pull away, sputtering.

"Hey!" Bruises bloomed spectacularly down his neck, freshly plowed red against deep violet like feathery sakura spilled down its black trunk. Protesting, Yamamoto pushed him away; their lower bodies flush against each other as Hibari pulled him down, thumb digging viciously beneath the twelfth rib. "I'm going to have to come up with a story for that you know."

Hibari considered this for the briefest of moments and nodded.

"You may start."

"Eh Hibari!" But this time, Yamamoto was ready. After a surprise lip lock, he straddled the older man, accidentally sending his teacup spinning into the dark. The tea soaked quickly through the tatami mats. "Oops."

Hibari looked annoyed. "Yamamoto Takeshi, I will bite you to death."

The younger man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in reply.

"Just so you know, we're not going to talk about this."

He reached down breathing, "Be nice".

It would all be over in the morning.

.

Yamamoto stood in front of Namimori Shrine, hands clasped together as though in deep thought or a silent prayer. Perhaps it was the first, or the other. Hibari didn't care. He was starting to get hungry and itch in a way that reminded him that he hadn't technically moved in the past several weeks thanks to the Vongola's intervention.

"He made good sushi." He said grudgingly as Yamamoto turned around beaming.

"Wow, will you say nice things about me when I'm dead?"

Hibari snorted. "Don't be foolish."

"So I decided to open my dad's place after all." Yamamoto said cheerily as though the older man hadn't spoken at all. "The health inspector gave me his blessings." They both knew that it was actually Hibari's blessings that had come in the form of a portly, balding man with a permanent stutter. '_Nerves_' the man had said, fidgeting on his feet for the lack of things to do. He hadn't brought anything save his name card and personal phone number scrawled behind. Yamamoto suspected other things. Ten years and a thousand miles hadn't changed Namimori that much after all.

Locking his fingers behind his head he added, "And I think you should come with me."

Hibari glared. "This was never our agreement."

"Haha, but I won right? And like you said, at least one of us should be honest."

Yamamoto snuck a quick peck before Hibari took a swing at him. He backed off immediately, hands raised in a soothing gesture.

"The herbivores will make noise." Hibari predicted.

Yamamoto flashed a smile.

"Well then it's a good thing we've got teeth."


End file.
